All Rise...

According to Judge Bill Gibron, it's all gore, gags, and engorged genitalia in this oddball indie affront.

The Charge

No, it's not what you think it is…though it is just about as
crude…

The Case

It's the end of the world, and boy are the males of the populace
pissed off…and aroused…and insane…and horny…and
ejaculating…and…

Let's stop right there, for a moment. This movie is called The Taint,
and it's basically 70 some minutes of the most scatologically surreal half-baked
horror comedy crack you will ever enjoy feeling guilty over. Over the years,
homemade auteurs like Chris Seaver and Justin Channell have made their outsider
bread and butter out of combining the funny with the freakish (almost always
revolving around slashers, sex, and sexuality) to create a confusing combination
of Wes Craven and John Waters. For them, the gross-out gag is to be taken
literally—meaning that while your stomach is heaving from vomiting, your
sides are splitting from laughter as well. Of course, the silly subgenre is
extremely hit or miss, the disasters far outpacing the considered
"classics." The Taint finds itself somewhere in the middle (get
it???). When it works, it's a wacky wonder to behold. When it struggles, it's
like listening to a group of 14 years olds giggle at their own baloney
farts.

The main storyline has a group of basement-dwelling scientists developing a
Viagra like substance. When a mutant strain of said drug is unleashed into the
local water supply, the men of our sleepy little location suddenly turn into
raging lunatics, their equally unhinged hard-ons spewing…well, you know
what. Among the rare survivors of this water-based plague are Phil, a
blond-haired himbo with about as much brains as brawn (and he's a wispy thin
thing) and a lone female assassin, Misandra. She's out to wipe the worthless,
semen-leaking guy scourge off the planet. He just wants to understand what the
Wheaties is going on. They come across a gang of slightly more intelligent dudes
who want to turn the destruction of the entire female population into a goofy
gang bang. They are then saved by a masked marauder who has his own connection
to the arousal apocalypse.

Back in the days before technology turned everyone into Eisenstein,
something like The Taint would be dismissed as a mediocre amateur
atrocity, the kind of "aren't we clever" conceit fostered by Kevin
Smith and his skewed Askew approach to moviemaking. Cheap doesn't have to be
childish, and yet that's what most people think of when they envision a lo-fi
horror romp. Luckily, we've had about a decade to decipher the mad motives of
people like Drew Bolduc (actor, co-director, and writer) and Dan Nelson
(co-director). For them, this is not an attempt to mimic the mainstream.
Instead, it's a heartfelt homage/hobby, a diversion that will hopefully
entertain while, if all goes well, opening the doors to a possible career in
cinema. Of course, no one expects a movie about psychotic men, fake plastic
penises hanging out and squirting Miracle Whip, running around destroying women
with relatively impressive gore effects to lead to a gig piloting the next Adam
Sandler film. But in a world where indie wonders literally come out of the
woodwork, stranger things than The Taint have happened.

In fact, one can look back to a similarly styled film—Peter Jackson's
sickening splatter delight Bad
Taste—as the guiding force behind films like this. The likable Kiwi
geek went from blowing up brains and dissecting zombies to picking up Oscars
(and lots of commercial praise) for his take on the Lord of the Rings.
Similarly, someone like Seaver or Bolduc can see themselves walking down the
same path, the viability of the nu-media making it much easier to get their
bonkers blood feast off the ground. There are a lot of winning moments in The
Taint. There are a lot of loose ends and unrealized potential, and there is
only so far one can take a concept involving engorged genitals and grue. Still,
The Taint is a tantalizing bit of gooch gotcha goofiness. It's not always
polished, but it sure is perverted.

The DVD sent to yours truly at the Verdict contains what looks like a decent
facsimile of what will be the final product (no box or cover art, however). The
1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen image is colorful and clean, though it still
suffers a bit from a lack of contrast and detail. There is a muddiness to the
picture that's often problematic. The Dolby Digital Stereo mix is nice,
balancing the camcorder-captured dialogue and post-production aural elements
(music, F/X) with ease. As for added content, there are a couple of trailers, a
fun director's commentary (with members of the cast and crew) and a subtitles
option. That's it.

While it's not ballsy enough to be brilliant, and is too obsessed with the
wiener to be a complete winner, The Taint is a happy juxtaposition
between jock itch comedy and half-assed horror. You'll like it, though you'll
hate yourself for doing so.

The Verdict

Not guilty. Perhaps a bit too silly and sick for its own good, but better
than you'd expect.